


Fiat Lux

by Soliya



Category: Aldnoah.Zero (Anime)
Genre: M/M, Post ep-24
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-10
Updated: 2015-05-11
Packaged: 2018-03-29 21:32:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,217
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3911422
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Soliya/pseuds/Soliya
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He hates the other man, but he still considers the score to be a draw and he won't allow it to stay that way. It's the start of yet another battle of which Inaho already holds a white flag in his hands.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Game Start

**Author's Note:**

> This was written in pretty much one-shot so their relationship closeness kind of jumps all over the place. Serious fics make me realize why I only write silly stuff! But people have to venture into unknown territory someday and I'm encouraged by how bad the actual finale was.

Inaho briskly walked through the dimly lit halls of the prison. A wave of irritation swept through him as the guards attempted to call him back, though it failed to appear on his face as usual. He vaguely heard the words of papers and other formalities, but he ignored them in favor of hurrying to the designated meeting room of this cage that held just one prisoner.

It had been three months since he had last visited the former Count and the most infamous man on two planets, Slaine Saazbaum Troyard.

Inaho wasn’t really sure what was keeping his feet from moving towards the facility. He had initially spared the man’s life because it was the last wish the current Empress of Mars made as Asseylum and not the political figure she was now.

“Please release him from the chains of misery.”

Inaho had to ask, what does it mean to make someone happy? He mused that he must already be far from the mark when he unconsciously thought of “making” the other man happy. Yuki had once tried explaining the concept of happiness to him when he was young after they had finished watching a movie on the subject, but she had eventually given up after it was apparent it was not truly reaching him. Happiness was not such a word to be carelessly tossed around. That’s all Inaho concluded from his sister’s efforts.

Finally reaching the glass room, he stared at the lone figure inside. Slaine Troyard was staring blankly at the chessboard in front of him. Inaho noted that he had lost weight. Again.

What a pain.

He couldn’t help but feel that way. He felt sorry for being unable to fulfill his promise with the Empress, but he too was human. There were things he couldn’t do and it was clear that “saving” Slaine Troyard was one of them. That and he himself wasn’t fully devoted the task. The man did shoot his eye out after all.

He pushed the key into the door and opened the door. Slaine didn’t look up. Sighing internally, he strolled over to the desk and plopped down.

The glass chessboard stood between him and the criminal. Slaine had never reached for any of the pieces so the score between them remained at 0-0 ever since the blonde was placed in this prison. Despite the other’s obvious unwillingness to play, Inaho continued to have the guards place the chessboard in between them in an effort to make the room seem a little bit less dreary. And it gave at least him something to do during the silence.

Three years.

It seems like a long time, yet at the same time not. To the battered people of Earth, it passed by in flash. Despite the Empress’ best efforts and help of the prototypes of non-military tech that utilized the Aldnoah, reconstruction was still on a crawling start. There had been just too much lost and too many people forever gone. In a sense, the biggest contributing factor to the continued peace was the broken spirits of both sides. Terrans were too busy with keeping their own lives together and Versians were...Well, he couldn’t say much on them without proper study.

It hadn’t passed by him that the components for another war to start were all around, ready for a spark. But as a mere soldier, he didn’t have the authority or will to do anything about them. Not that he was sure he could have, even if he tried. People’s hearts were complicated things and Inaho knew that he lacked the qualities to move them. That was the forte of a certain lifeless man in front of him.

Slaine Saazbaum Troyard.

A lone Terran man in a den of wolves who eventually donned the fur of one as well. Inaho was honestly impressed of how the boy of then had managed to rise the ranks against all odds to eventually hold the position of the highest power other than royalty. He had his naysayers, but from what Inaho found from Versian news sites during his investigations of the time, he was the people’s man. His struggle touched people’s hearts, the world through his eyes showed people dreams, his words crafted a gentle haven for the suffering, and his valiant form in battle invigorated both those who chose to follow him and those who did not yet wished they had.

However, if you looked at it from a different angle, more specifically from a Terrans’ view, he was nothing more than a sinister criminal. He pathetically licked the feet of monsters, he deceived the public, he spoke of war and destruction, and that damned white devil would be the last thing you see before the death of your comrades, friends, family, and eventually yourself.

It had been easy for Earth to swallow the lie about Slaine being the mastermind of the war, but that wasn’t the case for Vers. Protests had immediately popped up in the home planet after the Princess had declared herself Empress and for the end of the war.

It was to be expected. Vers was inches away from victory, only for their own Princess, who had been a warmonger for two long years, to call if off. Years of fighting and millions of lives lost for another stalemate. Soldiers shed bitter tears that they devoted their soul and body for the sake of Vers and the beautiful dream that Count Troyard sang of, only for everything they had done to end up fruitless.

It’s a hollow feeling to know that what you have done was pointless. Inaho personally knew the feeling. Even if your goals were eventually realized, just knowing that your hands had no part in it is enough to break someone.

And Vers did break. Just like the man in front of Inaho now did.

Slaine Troyard.

Inaho wanted to ask what was going on his head during it all. What was going through his mind as he stepped over the ideals he himself had planted in the Empress’ head? How did it feel to have the impoverished rally him as their savior when everything he did was for one person who would never acknowledge him?

He recalled one of their sessions years ago when Slaine was bitter and enraged yet full of life. After telling him that it was the Empress’ wish to have him alive, the blonde burst into tears and sobbed away what Inaho felt was the last bit of his self.

After that, Slaine Saazbaum Troyard no longer existed. What remained was a shell. No longer a carver of hope, no longer a bringer of destruction. Just a nameless man in a cage, the only thing keeping him tied down being a flimsy request.

And that disappointed Inaho, an emotion which startled him. It disappointed him that the one constant obstacle in his life threw in the towel before he could settle anything. He should have defeated him. He was on the winning side. He managed to defeat him and the Tharsis. Yet it felt so empty and that left him feeling a smidge of bitterness.

Just like in chess, the score was still 0-0. He should have been able to brush it off, after all, it was a fight the other side had started, but he found himself unable to. An itch that wouldn’t go away.

It was irritating. This now stale feud was irritating. The fact that he kept coming was irritating. The fact that he couldn’t reason why he kept coming was irritating. The fact that their short 30 minute sessions were spent in complete silence with the only breaks in it being Inaho’s questions that would never receive an answer was irritating. Slaine’s lifeless look was irritating. The dissonance between the “peace” of outside and the “peace” of this cell was irritating. It was all irritating.

Unable to shake off this feeling of disgust, Inaho suddenly stood up from his seat. He walked over to the other side of the table and roughly took the man’s chin to force the pale man to look at him. Red eyes, the color of Vers’ hazardous surface, met brilliant blue, the color of the vast ocean.

But those eyes still displayed nothing. The only thing Inaho could find was his own reflection and what he saw shook him.

Who was this? The Inaho displayed in those aquamarine eyes looked disheveled, emotional, and hateful. To the people around him, he would look the same as always, but Inaho knew. This was not the Kaizuka Inaho they knew and he hated that.

He’s reminded of the Empress when she was still just a Princess. She was surprisingly normal for royalty, laughing with kids her age and pouting from embarrassment. For the majority of the time he spent with her, she was Seylum. But whenever she spoke of the dreams of cooperation that she inherited from the lone Terran on Mars and of the boy himself, she was no longer Seylum. She was Asseylum Vers Allusia—heir to Vers and holder of a greater power and the responsibility that came with it. He transformed her from Seylum to Asseylum. He was at the center of what caused her to throw away Seylum and choose to be Asseylum Vers Allusia, Empress of Mars, forever.

That was probably the true reason he refused to refer to her as Seylum now. She was not Seylum any longer. Slaine Saazbaum Troyard had changed her. He had left a mark that would never fade, something that Inaho had failed to do.

He thinks back on the people of Vers again. It had been assumed that they would still be bigoted racists, especially after blaming everything on a Terran boy, but to the surprise of many on Earth, it had not been that way. While the nobles were a lost cause, many of the middle and lower classes kept an open mind in their dealings with the Terrans. There was no denying that there were still grudges left, but they were not from racial prejudices, just scars from war. They would never admit what caused such a change, but it was clear what did.

Even that Eddelrittuo who had always snapped at him was like a different person. Though she had said her farewells to him and the others members of the Deucalion after that one time they happened to meet, months after the war. Farewells that implied they would never meet or speak to each other again. He could speculate the reason why.

Slaine Troyard had the power to move people’s hearts. His words carefully grasped a hold of it before changing who you were from the inside out, stealing away parts of you while bestowing treasures you couldn’t let go of despite the prickling pain they inflict.

And now Inaho found himself being changed by the former Count. Slowly, so slowly in that wordless void that he hadn’t even realized it until now.

He felt the corners of his mouth twitching.

 

So you do have some fight left in you after all, Bat.

Perfect, I’ll take you up on that challenge. I’ve already given you a little bit of a handicap.

 

He raises Slaine’s chin even more and brings their faces close.

“Hey, Troyard. Let’s play a game.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The next time Inaho visits was four months later. He had wanted to visit earlier, but work calls and as a member of the military during peace time, he couldn’t afford to take over the reins whenever he felt like it as he did during the war.

He felt incredibly pleased that Slaine is no longer blankly staring at the chessboard in front of him. He was staring right at Inaho with a mixture of bewilderment and resentment.

Inaho looked at his arms and noted with satisfaction that he hasn’t lost weight. The reports read that Slaine had been eating his food ever since Inaho told him about the Empress’ wish, but he always threw up soon after. He noted that after the last session, the amount of times he threw up his food had lessened. All he needed was a goal, Inaho assumes.

He was about to speak when the blonde opened his mouth first, to his surprise.

“It’s been quite a while.”

“...I was on official duty.” He responded lamely. He wasn’t sure what he was expecting Slaine to say after what happened last session, but it certainly wasn’t small talk.

“I thought that maybe you forgot.” Inaho swore he could have seen the ghost of a smirk on the other’s face, but it was gone after a blink of his sole eye.

“You sound like you missed my visits.” He decided to try baiting him into reacting.

“You’d find that when you stare at the same thing for days on end, even a face such as yours is a breath of fresh air. Not that I’ve had any in the past couple years.” There was the smirk. Inaho hadn’t been imagining things.

He couldn’t believe his eye. Slaine was being responsive. Hell, he was being snarky. He had been expecting improvements in their interactions, but this was way above expectations.

“Hm? So even you can look surprised.” The smirk deepened and Inaho could count the creases in the corners of those aquamarine eyes.

“...You seem to be under the misunderstanding that I am not human. I express emotions just as much as any other person.” But not as much as you do though, he thinks to himself while thinking of the lively expressions he displayed in the rare moments he wasn’t acting like a dead fish.

Slaine snorted and leaned back on the chair. “Yes, yes, and I’m actually female.”

“We’d have to prepare many more non-recyclable necessities. It would call for an increase in budget and change of staff, along with a whole other list of complications. UFE won’t like having to pay more for your incarceration.” He rambled on only to stop when he noticed Slaine ignoring him in favor of twirling his now longer hair. He suddenly felt silly. “...Well, anyway...”

Slaine didn’t let him finish. “I feel like this battle is to your advantage when you’re so...” He looked like he was searching for the perfect word to insult him. “You.”

They stared at each other for a moment before Slaine looked away, clearly embarrassed that he had finished so poorly. He always did manage to trip up at the end.

“I beg to differ though. The one with the advantage is actually you. I’m giving you a handicap.”

“Oh, is that so? Why, thank you ever so much, Kaizuka Inaho! How could I ever hope to win if you don’t go easy on me?” Slaine sarcastically drawled with a dramatic wave of his hand. Inaho noted that he said his family name first and given name second despite being of a presumably Western background. He preferred his name being spoken that way. “Wait...handicap...?”

“Yes, a head start would probably be a better term for it, now that I think about it.” Inaho thought out loud, not noticing Slaine’s look of disbelief.

“..........I was right, despite not being very articulate about it. You’re one-of-a-kind, Inaho. That’s not a compliment, just so you don’t get any funny ideas.” Slaine breathed out while tucking a loose strand of hair behind his ear.

Inaho wanted to ask if he wanted a hair band, but quickly threw away the thought. That was too blatant, especially after they had just been talking about the game. Subtlety was key in this battle.

His train of thought was interrupted by the buzzing coming from his pocket. He took out of smartphone and looked at the message.

“Going so soon?” Slaine asked when Inaho stood up to leave. He could feel those blue eyes accusing him of running away.

“Some of us have things to do other than stare at walls.” He didn’t miss the flash of emotion run through Slaine’s eyes and left satisfied.

 

 

 

 

The next time Inaho visited was two months later. As soon as he sat down, Slaine perched up on the table.

“Bring me a notebook and pen next time you come.”

“Excuse me?” He was a bit startled. This was the first request from the former Count ever since he screamed for death shortly after his arrival here.

“Notebook. Object with bound paper. Pen. Writing utensil.” Slaine spoke slowly as if talking to a kindergartener.

“I know what they are. I was asking why you wanted them.” Inaho felt a bit put off at the tone Slaine used.

“To write? What else?” Now he looked at him as if he couldn’t speak properly.

“...Is this part of your strategy?” Brushing off his growing irritation, Inaho made a mental note to buy him the girliest diary out there with a pink pen with a fluffy ball on top.

“I guess you can say that.” Slaine didn’t look him in the eye, but he didn’t sense any lies in his words.

“Can’t you ask the guards for them?”

“That paper quality is awful, not to mention that poorly made pen. I honestly don’t know how the UFE operates properly using paper like that. What a poor use of your plentiful resources.”

“So you’re asking me to get you high quality paper and pens? Aren’t you demanding a lot for a prisoner?”

Slaine turned his eyes back to him with a sharp look. “It’s for the game. You’ll do it, right, General Kaizuka?”

Inaho acknowledge he was being baited, but took it anyway. “I’ll see what I can do.”

 

 

 

 

The next time Inaho visited was a month later.

“I have to question your taste.” Slaine gingerly held up the puffy pink pen.

Inaho had decided against getting the matching sparkly pink diary, but stuck with the idea of a pen with a fluff ball on the end.

“It suits you.” He gave a stock compliment, not bothering to put any effort into making it at least seem sincere.

“That confirms your bad taste. I should have expected this, knowing your stupid orange kat.” He twirled the pen around his fingers.

“It had its purposes.”

“Like painting a huge target on your back? Weren’t Terran kats painted that dull color to blend in with their surroundings? How did yours even fly with your superiors?”

“UFE didn’t possess the time or resources to check if a soldier was giving their kat a personal paint job.”

“That’s insubordination.”

“I was given various freedoms for my accomplishments.”

Slaine rolled his eyes and went back to flipping through the empty journal. It was a nice one with a hardcover and smooth pages inside. It had been a gift from a grateful businessman who had heard of Inaho’s feats in battle. He felt a little bit of satisfaction knowing that Slaine would have to use a journal given to Inaho as repayment for killing Martians and beating the former Count.

“What are you going to record in it?” He asked out of simple curiosity though he already had a good idea.

“...It’ll be like a memoir.” Slaine eyes looked far off for a moment before returning to Inaho with that small smirk on his face again. “You can publish it after a couple years as the ‘Biography of the late Count Troyard’ if you ever find yourself low on money. I’m sure people would flock to buy a book full of dirt on the biggest criminal in history.”

So he was correct in his speculation that Slaine was going to write about his life in the notebook. It had been the right decision to give him the notebook with the most pages out of his collection of gifted notebooks. Why people thought to give him notebooks when he hardly ever uses them, preferring his tablet much more, was a mystery to him.

“I wouldn’t do such a thing.” There was also no way the UFE would let him either. It would bring up more questions than was good for the sake of anyone. Any information that could possibly paint the former Count in a sympathetic light was to be destroyed.

Inaho highly doubted the man would portray himself as a pitiful man wronged by the world. He was far more self-hating than one would expect after seeing his flashy speeches.

Slaine was no longer paying any attention to him though. His slender fingers traced along the engraved decorations on the cover. He was in his own world and Inaho, shut out of it, could only stand up to walk away.

The satisfaction he felt earlier was gone.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The next time Inaho visited was two months later.

Slaine was back to his unresponsive self so the visit went much like they did before Inaho proposed this game. Lifeless and silent.

Inaho wanted to badger him why he had reverted back to this, but he already had a faint suspicion.

He looked at the notebook that was brought along with Slaine to the glass room. The cover made it difficult to tell whether it had been used or not, but he was sure it had.

He could easily picture Slaine hunched over the journal with the fluffy pen. Pouring his heart into each beautiful word that had so easily enslaved others. He found himself wanting to see them and soon his hand was reaching out to the notebook.

Slaine immediately perked up and snatched it away, burying it into his chest. His face was pale and Inaho noticed he was slightly trembling. Ignoring the blonde’s signs of discomfort, he walked over to Slaine and reached out for it again only for Slaine to shake his head furiously while holding it even tighter.

“I’ll give it back after. I just want to check what’s inside.” He said in as gentle of a voice as he could muster. A ploy to get him to give it up.

When he saw that Slaine wasn’t going to budge, he changed tactics. “This is a matter of security, Troyard. You might be planning another assassination, maybe mine.” Slaine flinched at that. “Give me the notebook now and if it’s clear, I’ll give it back and there won’t be any further trouble.”

Slaine raised his head to glare at Inaho, but he could tell.

That was fear in those aquamarine eyes.

Inaho felt himself smile and he turned around to walk back to his seat.

“.........Are you not going to check it?” Slaine cautiously asked while still clutching the notebook.

“I’ve made the judgment that it’s not needed.”

Slaine’s eyes narrowed. He was angry that Inaho had pulled off a little show of playing with his emotions so easily.

Inaho crossed his fingers in his lap and leaned back while never straying his eye from Slaine.

“So? Let’s hear about the life of former Count, Slaine Saazbaum Troyard.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The following visits were spent on Slaine slowly talking about the various people throughout his life. The subject never touched upon the Empress.

Inaho heard the blonde talk about a random Martian soldier who had told him that he was their comrade, a Count who did everything possible to bring shame to him in public, the first member of the Stygis Squad who had treated him with respect, squads who purposefully let him dive into enemy kats alone, a young female Count who couldn’t stop herself from ruffling his hair, bitter soldiers who beat him places clothes would cover, a dying soldier who pleaded to him with tears in his eyes to bring glory to Vers, cooks who would slip poison in his food, a soldier who was also a father telling him how his son won’t stop roleplaying as him, knights throwing away documents when they learned he had written them, a servant girl shoving an extra portion of dessert on him before running away, people who looked upon him with scorn.

Even when talking about those who had mistreated him, Slaine looked peaceful, almost as if the memory was just as precious as the good memories.

“Do you not resent those who abused you?” Inaho found himself asking one day. He had previously avoided the subject in order not to bring up any unnecessary trauma, but seeing as how Slaine himself talked about it so easily, he figured it was okay.

“At the time, of course I did. There were times when I wanted to just quit and let the Martians fight their own war.”

“And why didn’t you? Because of the Empress?”

Slaine hesitated. “......You could say that.” And elaborated no further.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Each time Slaine spoke of another person, he would always utter the same words.

“I’m sorry.”

The talks were no longer conversations between Inaho and Slaine. They were his monologues. His offering up to those who he can no longer meet and a plea for forgiveness. Forgiveness that would never come as long as he stayed in this cage.

It was only when he finally got to talking about his most loyal servant, Harklight, and the fake Princess, Lemrina, did his composure start to fall. He recalled every conversation and apologized each time.

“I was happy too. I couldn’t say it to them, but I loved them too.” He gasped out between labored breaths. “If it’s come to this, I should have said it! I should have expressed my gratitude every chance I had. Even if I had, it wouldn’t have been enough and yet I...!”

His eyes glazed over and he looked at Inaho. He was looking at him, but he wasn’t really seeing him. He was seeing the illusion of Harklight and Lemrina.

Slaine desperately grasped at his pendants and attempted to steady his breathing, but he was too worked up. Guilt was plaguing him. Regret was killing him.

He never really did know what happiness was, but after spending so much time here, Slaine had a faint idea that the time he spent on the Moonbase with Harklight, Lemrina, and even Saazbaum were the closest thing he had. He gave and they gave back. It was a different dynamic from what he had with the former Princess.

“You stayed with me till the end and yet I’m still here. I’m here...I’m right here. I'll always...be here.” Slaine’s breathing became even rougher and before Inaho could react, Slaine had collapsed.

Inaho rushed over and propped up Slaine so his head wasn’t on the hard floor anymore. His consciousness was hazy and he kept murmuring apologies in a fevered frenzy.

He felt something grab his hand and he soon realized it was Slaine’s own. It was soft and warm. Unable to deal well with the cold, Inaho always felt too cool for his liking, but he felt his whole body warm up from the heat radiating from their joined hands.

“Hark...light...” Slaine whispered out and Inaho felt an unexplainable dark feeling build up in his stomach.

“Time’s up, Troyard. You should rest.”

He didn’t want to hear any more of this. He didn’t want to hear apologies directed at those who would never hear them. He was right in front of him, yet Slaine refused to look at the black hole in his left eye. It was a sin that Slaine had yet to tread on just like he refused to talk about the betrayals he committed against the Empress.

He still hadn’t been swayed and victory was approaching. Slaine’s strategy had only been causing his own downfall.

I see, so his biggest enemy is himself.

And that’s why Inaho never felt satisfied in Slaine’s defeats. He never was the one to give the finishing blow, but that was about to change with this match. As he walked outside of the glass room to alert the guards of Slaine’s health, he swore that this would be a battle he would win of his own power. He would seize victory and finally put an end to this. It would be goodbye to Slaine Troyard.

He looked up at his reflection in the mirror of Yuki’s car and furrowed his brow at what he saw.

What a pathetic look you have there, unbefitting of the revered hero of Earth. Resentment, hate, and jealousy were all mixed together to create something vile. Yuki failed to mention anything so it was still only to the level Inaho himself could notice and that didn’t sit well with him.

He hates this and above all else, he hates Slaine Troyard.

He recalls Slaine’s crying face and realizes that even as Slaine shed tears, he was somehow beautiful.

 

 

 

 


	2. Let there be light

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had actually finished half of this when I posted the 1st chapter which is why it was so quick. It's the end of the game.

“I’m sorry for forcing you to see such a pathetic sight.” Slaine apologized the moment Inaho entered the room.

Irritation once again flooded him. This was the first apology Slaine had made to someone who could hear it. His first apology to Inaho. However, it was over something as worthless as fainting in front of him.

That’s not what you should be apologizing to me for.

However, Inaho didn’t know exactly what he wanted the older man to apologize for. Sorry for shooting your eye? Sorry for using the Princess? Sorry for fighting in the war? None of it really clicked.

“It was nothing. I’m used to seeing that.” He snapped as he took his place across the blonde. A pang of what seemed like guilt flashed through him as the former Count bit his lips and grasped the pendant underneath his blue garments. A sign of emotional distress, he noted.

The blonde closed his eyes and took in a deep breath, not letting go of the pendant. “...I hadn’t said it with the intention of groveling for your forgiveness so you really didn’t need to respond.”

So even that apology was another one uttered with no desire for anything back.

“I don’t plan on being a tool in your quest for self-satisfaction.”

Slaine gave a small grin at that and Inaho didn’t like the look of it.

Feeling increasingly uncomfortable, he tapped his foot anxiously. It had been over a year since he proposed this game. Slaine and Inaho were both grown men now. While Inaho had filled out into something more suiting his status as a war legend, Slaine had remained a pale shadow of what he used to be. Thin as ever thanks to his inability to keep his food down and lack of exercise, Slaine Troyard looked as if he might disappear any second and Inaho couldn’t forgive that. He wouldn’t allow him to fade away when the score was still tied.

“Stand up and stick out your hands, Troyard.” He suddenly ordered.

Slaine cocked his head in confusion but obeyed. He retrieved the handcuffs he had put in his pockets earlier, put them on those bony wrists, and tugged on them to get the blonde to leave his chair.

“Wait, what? What are you doing?” Slaine looked completely confused. He was justified though considering this was the most irregular action Inaho had taken in these past four years.

“Going out.”

“Out!?” Slaine hissed. He desperately looked at the guards but all of them were looking the other way. He couldn’t tell if they were purposefully turning a blind eye or this was actually approved by the higher ups.

Slaine continued to cause a racket as he was pulled through the facility, but Inaho ignored him. As he got closer to the entrance, he flipped around and made quick work of blindfolding the former Count. “Can’t have you knowing where we are, now can we.”

“Then just what on Earth are you doing?” His voice was laced with hardly hidden rage.

“Ah, so Versians don’t say what on Vers?”

“They actually refer to—wait that doesn’t even matter, don’t change the subject.”

“Hm.” He led Slaine by the cuffs to one of the prison’s cars and had the blonde sit in the passenger’s seat while he himself took the wheel.

“.......Can you even drive?”

This was the closest Slaine had gotten to talking about his eye ever since that visit many years ago.

“I’ve adapted.”

Slaine didn’t react. He only whispered more to himself than to Inaho. “Nothing’s impossible for you, huh.”

He decided not to comment and focused on driving.

 

 

After about 20 minutes, they reached their destination.

He helped the blonde out of the car and took off the cuffs and blindfold. Slaine’s eyes widened at the site of the thing that was the same color they were.

“The ocean...” He whispered. He looked at Inaho in disbelief. “Why?”

“Happy Birthday, Troyard.”

Neither of them spoke a word.

“Pfft.” Slaine started laughing out loud. “Really? You’re taking an A class criminal out of prison to see the ocean on his birthday?”

“Yes.”

“I can’t...I cannot believe you.” He looked at him with derisory eyes. “I was right. You are one-of-a-kind! I’m almost honored!”

He was making fun of him, but Inaho could tell those words held no venom from the sparkle in those aquamarine eyes.

“Consider it a gift from UFE for all the ‘dirt on the biggest criminal in history’.” Though this was really all unauthorized, but Slaine didn’t need to know that. It was a small price to pay for a critical move in this game.

Slaine started walking towards the ocean side, enjoying the feel of the warm sand between his toes. “Let them know I still hate their guts and it wasn’t for them. It was for you.”

Inaho was too startled to respond immediately.

“Well, for our little game, to be exact.” Slaine continued, not noticing how Inaho had frozen up.

“You haven’t been doing so well for all your efforts so far though. Are you sure you’re not just doomed to fail?” Inaho recovered with a little bit more sharpness than he had originally intended.

“That might be true.” Slaine didn’t miss a beat. His face went a bit softer. “Everything I’ve done may be for naught. When I’m gone, there might be nothing left to say I was there.”

Inaho felt the need to disagree. If that was true, then the citizens of Vers might still be lashing out from their bigoted bubbles. The Empress might have been still just a Princess. Inaho might have...

However, Slaine looked almost at peace. The look of contentment was so different from all the other expressions he had seen on the other man these past four years. He wasn’t engulfed in bitter rage, he wasn’t a lifeless doll, and he wasn’t agonizing over his past deeds.

Was this Slaine Saazbaum Troyard? No, Slaine?

Slaine left Inaho behind and joyfully walked through the beach.

“It’s hot!” He yelped as he hopped from foot to foot, making his way to the water. Laughter that rang like bells rang through the otherwise monotonous air.

He spread his arms as he twirled around in the sand. He crept down to the edge of the water and let out a small scream when a wave swept across his feet. He cautiously touched the water with his hand and brought it up to his lips, only to make a face when he licked it.

The sight wasn’t anything special to Inaho, or so he had originally thought. While not a regular thing, he had seen enough beaches to not feel the excitement he had first experienced when Yuki had brought him to it when they were young.

He realized that Slaine had probably not touched the Earth’s lush nature ever since he left for Mars with his father. They had landed on a beach when they fell through the atmosphere together, but both were too focused on different things to admire the scenery or lull in the ocean waves like Slaine was doing now.

He had taken that away from him. Dangled it in front of the other man who had nothing left. The rational part of him told him that it wasn’t really his fault, but Inaho’s feet felt heavy, unable to move.

Inaho stared at Slaine’s smiling face radiating with happiness and saw just how much of a caged bird Slaine had been. It hadn’t been just the four years he was incarcerated, he had been caged for almost all of his life, he felt.

A creature born and raised in a cell eventually loses its perception of what freedom truly is.

Inaho’s gaze fell upon Slaine’s bony arms, protruding collar bones, and thin figure. He looked like he would disappear if he looked away for even a second.

Slaine Troyard no longer possessed the means to fly and never would.

 

He was laughing to himself as he kicked through the waves. The mother hen inside of Inaho instinctively wanted to yell at him for getting his clothes wet, but he couldn’t put a damper on the other’s enjoyment of his first taste of the outside world in years.

“Are you going to just stand there the entire time?” Slaine asked. His pale blonde hair was a mess with stray hairs falling all over his face.

“I guess it won’t hurt.” He carefully removed his shoes and socks before walking over to where the blonde was continuing to play. “Troyard.”

“Hm?” Those brilliant blue eyes looked at his. Inaho finally felt like he was getting to see Slaine.

“Here.” He handed him two hair pins.

“...” Slaine stared at them and Inaho was starting to feel a bit distressed. He had chosen them with a bit of care, but he was then reminded of how the older man had made fun of his bad taste before.

Wordlessly, Slaine took the pins out of his hand and carefully pinned back some of his wild hair out of his face. Inaho could now see both of those eyes clearly and felt satisfaction creeping in.

“Consider it a gift from me.” Inaho softly smiled without realizing it himself.

“...”

“I had originally considered getting you a hair band or headband, but hair pins are much more flexible and you would be able to pin down those stray hairs that are always in your way with ease.”

“Are you saying my hair always looks messy?” He frowned.

“No, not messy.” Fluffy maybe, he mused. He recalled how Slaine once told him about a female Count that couldn’t resist the urge to pat his hair whenever she saw him and he could share the sentiment. Unlike a woman though, he couldn’t so easily bring himself to caress the other man’s head. He was taller too, he darkly thought.

“...Well anyway...” He slowly spoke while turning back to the water and trudging further into it. Without looking back at Inaho, he opened his mouth to speak. “Thank you.”

Those were words that desired something back. He was participating in this tug-of-war.

“...You’re welcome.” The words naturally flowed out. It wasn’t lipservice, he meant them.

He heard the seagulls cry and felt somehow at ease. They were in their own world. Him, Slaine, the sea, and the birds that he had once seen with the former Princess while dancing to the gentle dreams the pure boy had spun.

Slaine swiveled around and reached down to splash Inaho with the salty water. He was about to complain when he felt something warm take his hands and his head went blank.

Slaine stood right in front of him, grasping his hands with his own. Inaho stiffened his face, unwilling to let his confusion or surprise show. Slaine on the other hand, was neither smiling nor glaring. It wasn’t an empty expression, but Inaho could not decipher the exact emotion behind it.

“Thank you.”

This time those words felt like he was giving Inaho something.

“You’re welcome.”

Inaho wouldn’t refuse it for the world.

 

 

 

 

 

Inaho soon returned Slaine to the facility and collapsed into his bed as soon as he got home. He stared at his hands, still feeling the warmth. Troyard’s hands had been thin and bony like the man himself. They were rough hands that told a story of hardship in a different way than words could. They were hands that had fought tooth and nail for a chance at a different future.

They were the only hands that Inaho had never let go of and he wished they would stay that way.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The following visits were peaceful in their own way. They would talk, Slaine would start a verbal fight after getting offended by one of Inaho’s more tactless comments, and they would bicker.

It was...fun, in its own way. He couldn’t deny that they were, but they also wore him out. He always found himself falling into a deep slumber after returning home from the prison.

Inaho stroked the eye patch and thought of the pale blonde man. Yuki no longer complained about his frequent visits to the dead man. Not that she could now that she was a member of a different household. Kaizuka Yuki was no more. The day she left to move in with her new husband, she simply gave him a tight hug and assured him that she was always his ally. He didn’t need her to tell him that, he always knew.

All his other friends had gone down different paths. Some were mature members of society while others remained the same as ever. In the rare chance all of them could reunite, Inaho felt like he was the only one who hadn’t grown at all.

He was still the same, left behind by the rest.

People like Inko would argue that he had been so far ahead that it might just seem like that, but it didn’t change the fact that he felt static.

His thoughts drifted to the game between him and Slaine. It had been three years since the start and there was still no end in sight, but that didn’t bother him.

He might be okay with having things continue like this forever. He would continue to visit the man, they would spend time in a comfortable atmosphere, and then he would leave till next time.

A standstill. He had no problems with it.

He chuckled to himself at what a reversal that was of what he thought many years ago when he was desperate to put an end to this.

Inaho was content.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“Hello, Slaine. So, I’ve brought you another pen. You said that yours was running out of ink last time, right?” Inaho stated while taking out another fluffy pen out from his pocket. It had become sort of a running joke between them.

“Inaho.”

“You should also be running out of paper in that notebook too so I brought one along as well. It had been a gift from a diplomat, but I have no use for it.” He remarked while tapping on the hardcover of the new notebook. “It’s quite nice. As expected of a politician from Finland. Isn’t that around where you were born?”

“Inaho.”

“I’ll bring you some pictures of it next time. Reconstruction efforts have finally reached Europe. It’s quite strange that it took them five years, I presume it to be the results of heavy lobbying in UFE.”

“Inaho!”

Slaine’s voice told him that the blonde would no longer allow him to look away any longer.

“Inaho. Look. At. Me.”

He kept facing away even though he knew it was futile.

The prisoner took his chin roughly and forced him to look at those beautiful blue eyes just like how he did to the other many years ago.

Almost as if the power he had exuded seconds before was a lie, the blonde ever so gently caressed Inaho’s brown locks. Starting from his forehead, he slowly traced his finger down Inaho’s face till he reached the eye patch.

He felt around it, lightly pressed against it, tugged at it.

“Slai-“

“Inaho.”

Time’s up.

“I’m sorry.”

Inaho couldn’t breathe.

“I’m sorry for shooting out your eye. For causing you so much suffering. For hurting the people who care about you. For hurting _you_.” Slaine’s eyes glistened, but tears did not fall. “I’m...so sorry.”

His mouth felt dry.

He had long forgotten about his eye. He could still function on a day-to-day basis and it had probably been the biggest factor in his and his friends and family’s survival through the war. Time had healed him.

But time did not treat Slaine the same way. It wouldn’t wash away the things he had done and Inaho cursed that he hadn’t seen that. However, the blonde had been slowly moving forward by his own power. He was so close to the end, but he gave Inaho the choice he had fought so hard to obtain. Victory or defeat.

A fork in the road. That’s what Inaho stood in front of.

Forgiving the other came easy to him now. It was the consequences of either choice that left Inaho still scrambling for words.

Forgive him and he felt like he would lose the other man forever. The ethereal man would truly fade for good and this time, there was no going back.

It was an irrational thought. Just how would the other man disappear? He was caged in this glass prison. He had nowhere to go besides here where Inaho could look after him. He needed Inaho.

Refuse to forgive him and this fantasy could continue for a while longer.

He wanted it to stay like this. He treasured those peaceful moments they shared, cut off from the world.

He wanted to grow annoyed and amused from Slaine’s snarky remarks. He wanted to keep experiencing the ups and downs the other man gave him. He wanted to make the other laugh, even if it was at him. He wanted him to smile. Smile at him.

Dreams of a world where they hadn’t met on the battlefield floated through his head. A world where he was not a soldier of UFE and Slaine was not the most hated criminal on Earth. A world where he could reach out and easily touch those soft, pale hands and gaze at those brilliant blue eyes. He would bask in the warmth and Slaine would laugh without the fear of tomorrow or the guilt of yesterday clouding it.

A world where he could be with Slaine.

But dreams were just that: dreams. This wasn’t a world where they were friends. This was a reality in which Inaho was the one who took away Slaine’s everything and even then, the older man gave him the one little thing he had managed to create for himself.

What was Slaine expecting from him? What choice did _he_ really want?

A voice whispers into his hear. Come on. It’s his fault for giving you the right to make the choice. Shouldn’t you be allowed to dream too? Shouldn’t you be allowed to chase after happiness?

His throat still felt parched, but he was finding his voice. Listen to him. You’re not being cruel. You’ll take responsibility for your actions and make him happy. You swear it.

I won’t---

“Orange.” Slaine calmly spoke.

Orange. The name Slaine called him by when they were still bitter enemies. The name he called him by when he shot him in the eye.

Slaine was softly smiling now and Inaho couldn’t stop those words from falling out of those lips.

“Are you my enemy?”

His chest hurt. He wanted to scream at Slaine.

Don’t bring us back there. We’re not the same people we were back then! Things are different now!

He felt warm hands wrap around his. His hands were in Slaine’s. Those hands that he hadn’t let go of and continued wishing he wouldn’t.

He broke out of Slaine’s grasp and in turn, locked his fingers in them. Tightening his grip, he pleaded with his eye to Slaine but the blonde wouldn’t speak.

“.......Unfair...You’re so unfair.” He let his head fall onto Slaine’s chest. The rhythmic beating of his heart felt comforting to him.

Slaine squeezed his fingers back in response.

“...I forgive you, Slaine Troyard.”

I forgive you. I’ve had for a long time. I’ve forgiven you such a long time ago that I hadn’t even realized I did.

He sensed Slaine slowly getting closer to him. Warm breathing closed in on his head and he felt something lightly press against his eye patch before the heat slowly moved away.

He looked up to Slaine and felt his chest constrict and his heartbeat quicken.

 

 

Slaine was smiling and Inaho swore it was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.

 

 

“I win, Kaizuka Inaho.”

 

 

 

Before he realized what was happening, Inaho felt a sharp pain run through his back and he was staring at the ceiling.

People, probably the guards, were shouting and the rumble of feet running into the room pounded in his ears.

“You bastard!”

“Sir, are you alright!?”

“Get the fuck away from him!”

Inaho stared dumbfounded as he was helped up by one of the guards and Slaine was violently taken away by the guards.

Why? Why? Why!?

“Slaine...!” He hoarsely shouted. The blonde didn’t look back. “Slaine!!”

He didn’t care if the guards were looking at him, he didn’t care if he looked pathetic. He couldn’t let things end like this. This was not the goodbye he wanted.

“Slaine!!”

The man finally tilted his head back to look at Inaho, but said nothing. The guards continued to push him forward while keeping Inaho back.

Those brilliant blue eyes burned into Inaho’s.

Slaine mouthed words that Inaho could not interpret and then he was gone.

He crumbled on the floor, numb to the concerned voices of the guards. Devastated could not begin to describe how he was feeling.

There were still traces of heat on his hands, but Inaho was certain that he had just let go of that hand forever.

You’re right, Slaine.

I did lose.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

A month had passed since that day. Inaho had been barred from returning to the prison by UFE higher-ups, citing the incident as one of the major reasons. As typical of the organization, if he was useful, he was kept on board, if not, he was easily cut off. He planned on petitioning to be reinstated though.

He didn’t remember much of what happened after Slaine had been taken away. He woke up in his bed at home from feeling like he couldn’t breathe.

He touched his eye patch. He wanted to believe it was Slaine’s lips that had touched upon it.

His phone suddenly started ringing. Picking it up, he was startled to see who was calling.

The prison’s warden.

A sinking feeling was forming.

“...Yes?”

“General Kaizuka. It’s...about Prisoner A.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

How long had he been staring at this wall? It felt like eternity. Is this how Slaine felt like when he used to stare at the wall all day? Was he experiencing what he experienced?

Inaho hollowly laughed at himself.

Of course not. You can’t understand what he went through. You didn’t understand him at all.

 

 

 

Cardiac arrest.

 

 

 

At the tender age of just 23, Slaine Saazbaum Troyard passed away.

Inaho’s greatest fears had come true.

Slaine was no longer in this world.

No matter where Inaho looked, he would not find him.

Even if he flew to the moon, he would not find that pale blonde hair and beautiful smile.

Inaho tightened his fist so hard that he felt like his nails would pierce through his skin. He would welcome it. He wished for physical pain that would distract him from this gaping wound in his chest.

Dozens of notebooks were splattered around his body. They were the notebooks he had given Slaine.

All empty.

The warden had sent them to him along with the carefully kept pens he had also gifted him.

Slaine hadn’t recorded down anything. It had all been an act. Some of the notebooks weren’t even opened. He had never intended to leave his memories behind.

There was no trace of Slaine left in the world.

He was gone.

“You’re so selfish, Slaine.” Inaho mumbled to himself. “You take away and take away, and then just like that. Disappear.”

You win and then run away forever so I can’t even the score.

Even after spending five years with him, it was only now that Inaho realized he had received nothing of Slaine’s. The pendant he grasped in his hands was the only memento he had of the man and that was something the warden had given to him after he requested it.

Playing with the pendant absentmindedly in one hand, Inaho slowly flipped the pages of the empty notebooks.

 

_“I was right, despite not being very articulate about it. You’re one-of-a-kind, Inaho. That’s not a compliment, just so you don’t get any funny ideas.”_

I hate you.

_“That confirms your bad taste. I should have expected this, knowing your stupid orange kat.”_

I hate you.

_“I was happy too. I couldn’t say it to them, but I loved them too.”_

I hate you.

_“You stayed with me till the end and yet I’m still here. I’m here...I’m right here.”_

I hate you.

_“Everything I’ve done may be for naught. When I’m gone, there might be nothing left to say I was there.”_

You’re the one who wanted it that way, weren’t you?

_Wordlessly, Slaine took the pins out of his hand and carefully pinned back some of his wild hair out of his face. Inaho could now see both of those eyes clearly and felt satisfaction creeping in._

I took an hour choosing which ones to get.

_The blonde ever so gently caressed Inaho’s brown locks. Starting from his forehead, he slowly traced his finger down Inaho’s face till he reached the eye patch._

 

 

_“I win, Kaizuka Inaho.”_

You did. How I am now is more proof than I would ever need.

I hadn't gone in with a handicap, I went in with a white flag.

The score was 0-1.

It would remain that way.

 

He flipped to the next page and raised a brow at the binding. A page had been torn off from this particular notebook.

He felt his heart beat faster.

He jumped up and shook all the notebooks. It had to be somewhere. Anywhere.

His line of sight fell upon the pendant.

Slowly, ever so slowly, he opened it up and there it was.

A crumbled piece of paper was stuffed inside.

 

Inaho’s fingers trembled as he reached out for it and carefully smoothed it out. In dainty writing, it read:

 

 

 

 

The score is 1-1.

We need a tiebreaker.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Inaho’s vision went black and he curled up on the floor.

He couldn’t breathe and he wasn’t sure if he wanted to.

Slaine, Slaine. You’re unfair. You’re so, so unfair.

You could have let me think I had lost. Aren't you dumb letting me know this? You always did slip up in the end.

But he was grateful, he felt fulfilled. The gaping hole in his chest was filling up.

Inaho hadn’t been the only one who was irreversibly changed by the other.

 

 

He had something of Slaine’s and Slaine went with something of his.

 

 

They had won and lost together.

 

 

 

 

On the back of the paper was one sentence.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Let there be light upon your world, Inaho.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

My world is filled with light, Slaine. Light that you have given me.

 

 

 

“I love you.”

 

 

 

 


End file.
